


Somnambulant Arachnids

by inthemouthofthewolf



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Arachnophobia, Dreams, Fear, Formicophilia, Giant Spiders, M/M, Nightmare Fuel, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Tickling, Other, Spiders, Tickling, Vore, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthemouthofthewolf/pseuds/inthemouthofthewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a large spider that Will Graham came face to face with. A magnified version, of course, of the very same creature he had swatted in a panic when it had come to join him in the shower. It had a smile like a thousand knives, which made no sense, Will reasoned, even as the spider had hoisted him up and was shredding his clothes off his body, soaked in blood that wasn’t his. The spider reminded him of Hannibal, making him feel so exposed like this. It looked like it wanted to devour him alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so it happened like this.  
> I saw this MASSIVE SPIDER, right?  
> MASSIVE. HUGESPIDER.  
> and I'm like "AAaaaaauughhhMYGODDDdd" and I kind of freak out a bit, but then I realise that I'm aroused? like, not just autonomic response fear-based arousal. like, massive boner Um. hm.  
> I get a little worried about it and then figure that I should just maybe write it out and like dispel it or work it out of my system or something because seriously I do not need another fetish nope I don't need another no sir.  
> But I wanted people to be able to read it and have fun.  
> so I tried to think of an analogous characterperson and this is what happened.  
> also, say that title three times fast, seriously. It should be another one of those actor voice-warm-up-exercises. like "unique new york". you know what I mean. you need to EnUNciATE!

It was a simple action.

A simple action that resulted in the ending of a life (though a tiny one.)

It had been so easy. Unthinkingly easy, actually, because it had been done in a panicked reflex in between the ritual of body wash and shampoo. He never pissed in the shower, because the idea somewhat repulsed him.

The tiny life only gave tiny gratification, tiny remorse, but exponentially hard-thudding panic when it had scuttled from the shampoo bottle and quickly up his sleepy hand, until the creature was suddenly smashed, ended, there on the wet tile wall. Will was still panting and wide-eyed later when he dried off, fresh and clean, but feeling foul, because he could already see that he was really going to have to work to return to an even, calm baseline. He could already feel himself sitting there on his bed, sighing, rubbing his temples. He was there already, in fact, as he let the fluffy fabric of the towel drag slowly across his erection—unsettling and surprising and incredibly sudden, and he had to grip the edge of the sink behind him to keep his feet.

Yes, it was going to take a lot of effort to get to sleep tonight.

It was going to take work.

It was going to take soothing murmuring to himself, imagining another voice there at his side, sharing his bed, imagining it so well that he could hear it resonating inside of him and he could focus on what the words were telling him and he could listen and drift

and sleep.

“You want to close your eyes. You’re so tired…” He supposed it was a form of self-hypnosis, though he was incredibly sceptical of that idea as a whole, though he didn’t deny the power of the mind. He thought about dogs, his dogs, big dogs, little dogs, I do not like that hat

and “sleeeeeeeepppyyyyy boyyyy”, almost sing-song, not mocking. Redirecting his focus. Bringing it out of where it was shunted up and writhing against jagged rocks by the strong current and surf, and the words and the low rumble proved more inexorable than those thoughts and distractions.

“You’re so exhausted… … you want to rest… you need rest… sleep.” The last word was more of a sigh, seeming relieved because its subject was finally relaxing and his eyes had stopped twitching and flitting about behind closed lids, even there seeing monsters, conjuring them, sometimes, maybe.

“Sleeeeeeeppyyyyyboyyyy” Will would have found it embarrassing if it wasn’t working so well. With every murmur he could feel himself being dragged down, dragged down in a very pleasant way, to sleep nestled and hidden safe in a burrow away from his conscious mind. He didn’t expect to be sharing that burrow, however, and when his eyes started roving again, it was because he was asleep and dreaming. It was time to face the beast.


	2. the dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will comes face to face with a beast in his dreams

It was a massive spider that Will Graham soon came face to face with, which he could scarcely make out in the darkness of the burrow. The spider’s burrow. It had dragged him down here into a trap and was going to feast on him; that was the fearful narrative. Will didn’t think he’d make that great of a meal. He could already hear his bones snapping like branches, though, but the huge pincers that suddenly gripped him were deceptively gentle, even as they pressed him back against the dirt wall of the burrow and sediment filtered down with little beams of light, brightening the eight wet-ink-looking orbs of the great spider and Will screamed when the fangs tore down through his pre-emptively blood-soaked clothing, flinching back when they grazed his flesh and he felt his own blood welling up as quickly as the scream had. There had been no venom, Will remembered something about spiders having to conserve it for something they really need it for, and that was good, because with the size of this spider, Will was sure the venom would have just killed him outright – or worse, paralyzed him completely so he would be immobile and muted while the giant hairy monster slurped out his guts.

“Remarkable boy… I do admire your courage.” The spider had backed off slightly and spoke and somehow it seemed not at all unnatural. With all the deftness of its class, but all the brutality of its species, it has Will Graham bare and exposed and shaking in the dark, clawing at the dirt behind his back even as he faces down the beast, because surely there was a way out. There had to be. His arm suddenly sank backwards to the elbow into a hole that he had exposed, and he stumbled, unprepared for it, and he wheeled around in panic. His arm came back out covered in crawling spiders, and in the sudden frenzy of activity, many scuttled on little legs up his arm because it was the only road to take. Others braved a jump, whether to the burrow floor or its dirt wall was hard to guess.

The burrow was suddenly full of a creepy frenzied laughter and it took him a moment before he started to wonder whether it was coming from the giant spider’s mouth or his own, is this what his own laugh would sound like? There were bigger spiders coming out of that wound now, spilling in, flooding in, and the more that stampeded past his feet, brushing at the hair on his legs, some scrambling up them, some towards the enormous spider who was clicking its pedipalps in mirth, he realised that it tickled hellishly.

It was a silly thought, though didn’t some evolutionists say that this was precisely what it was for…?, but there it was nonetheless, and with the realisation there could be no resistance. He jerked forward with a yelp, only to be pushed against the dirt wall impatiently by the enormous spider who would not have Will stumbling around and stepping on its friends. Will couldn’t blame him for that, he understood protectiveness, he could sympathise. What he couldn’t do, however, was think, because even as the smaller spiders, some miniscule, some bigger than tarantulas, were crawling over every inch of him, he could feel the hairy jaws palpitating his ribcage thoughtfully and it was hellish. The enormous spider watched on with its glimmering eyes, all eight of them, and he was scared and helpless and whimpering with hilarity. If he had been worried about going mad, he was mad past worrying now.

The spiders were tickling him and tickling him and suddenly he felt the huge jaws grip him tight, experienced the sickening crunch with all of his senses-- and jolted awake with a scream and a cooling sticky mess on his belly. He would not be sharing this particular dream with anybody, he thought as he reached for a towel. No, sir.


End file.
